
How the North Torajan Funeral Procession Made Me See Mourning in a Different Light
In this Open Column submission, Jajang Ramadhan R. Warsito reminisced on his journey down to North Toraja, all to bear witness and immerse himself into how the locals deal with mourning through the Rambu Solo’ procession.
Words by Whiteboard Journal
How would you feel if a deceased family member had to remain in your home for an extended period? How could you cope with the presence of a dead body everyday? How could people spend a week preparing for a funeral event that costs up to billions of rupiah?
I believe many of us would find this situation deeply unsettling, terrifying, or perhaps even anxiety-inducing. However, this situation does not seem to be a big deal or a major problem for most people living in this tradition. Torajan or Toraja people are the people who ‘live with a dead body’ for a certain period. Toraja is a tribe of people who live in three administrative areas in South Sulawesi: Tana Toraja, North Toraja, and Mamasa.
Bus to Lembang Tallu Lolo, North Toraja
In December 2024, I visited North Toraja by taking a 6-hour travel, 316 KM from Makassar (The capital city of South Sulawesi province) with one goal in mind: to witness the funeral procession and how the Torajan truly have a life with the dead body at home. People usually pass many cities or districts, such as Maros, Soreang, Bontobonto, Padaelo, Laboso, Pinrang, Kabere, Enrekang, Kalosi, and many more. Even though the road has been paved with asphalt, the land contour is winding as North Toraja is situated on a hilly and mountainous landscape (500–1,500 m above sea level), and is also landlocked (Sihombing, 2022). The easiest way is by taking a plane. I used the sleeper bus for affordability’s sake. However, due to my sensitivity towards noise, I struggled to sleep on the sleeper bus during the trip to North Toraja.
During the trip, I felt bored and I decided to browse for any information about Toraja and why this area exists. An article by Setyaningrum (Kompas, 2022) caught my attention, which stated that according to the myths spreading in Torajan people, Toraja is an autonomous country called ‘Tondok Lepongan Bulan’ or ‘Tana Matarik Allo’ in the local tongue. In the myth, the Toraja nobles (tana’ bulaan) assume that their ancestors were descendants of Puang Matua (the highest god or God) who lived in Nirvana and was later appointed king in Tondok Lepongan. Until now, this belief is still alive and is declared in marriages between nobles (tana’ bulaan) and has been passed down orally from generation to generation.
That fact reminded me that many Torajans blend Christianity with Aluk To Dolo, incorporating traditional beliefs and rituals into their Christian faith. This is especially true for those living in small, autonomous villages who traditionally adhere to Aluk Todolo, an animistic and dynamic belief system that predates the 20th century.
I didn’t realize it was almost dawn, and finally, I was able to sleep, though it was only for an hour. The bus was to stop in a limited area or point to stop, and then I saw a remarkable landscape of the bus stop on Poros Rantepao Makale Street, which became the main road to connect every region in Toraja. This area is called Lembang Tallu Lolo. Interestingly, in Toraja, Lembang has an important role. It is beyond a general definition of a village, as this is where Toraja’s identity and culture are maintained and preserved. Lembang is also a place where Toraja’s people carry out various social, economic, and cultural activities.
Meaa (Ma’ Kaburu): The Final Day of Rambu Solo’
I observed that their unique traditions remain strong among other tribes in Indonesia. One of the profound traditions in the entire Toraja region including North Toraja is Rambu Solo’. The funeral tradition ceremony can last for 3–7 days, but the length of the ceremony truly depends on the deceased’s societal status and the family’s ability to finance it. I spoke with one of the family members on the last day of the Rambu Solo’ ceremony which costs more than 10 billion rupiahs for 30 buffalos (or, in the local tongue, tedong), which plays a very important role in the social and cultural status of the Toraja people. After the buffaloes were slaughtered, the meat was typically distributed to places of worship, communities, and families.
According to Handayani et al. (cited in Sihombing, 2022) in their research, Out of Crisis: Maintaining Hegemony through Rambu Solo’ Ritual in Toraja, Rambu Solo’ is an essential aspect of Aluk Todolo, the traditional or local religion of Toraja people before the introduction of Christianity in 1915. This belief taught Rambu Solo’ the puya route that transports spirits to eternity and unites them with their ancestors. Thus, Rambu Solo’s magnificence and perfection can affect the fate of spirits in the hereafter.
These are exactly the words from a family I visited to witness the Rambu Solo’, where her sister called L. Rapa (Grandma Elma) soul will transport eternity after the Rambu Solo’ ends. The family sacrifices wealth and energy for the event, ensuring the deceased will receive the best things in the eternal realm.

A portrait depicts some of L. Rapa’s relatives and family members sitting under a rice barn. (Credits: Jajang Ramadhan R. Warsito)
Chapter 1: Pray, Speech & Eat
The only procession I can witness is Meaa or Ma’ Kaburu or the funeral day, essentially the final day of the entire Rambu Solo’. To participate, it requires a 30-minute ride by motorbike to go to Lembang Awa’ Kawasik, District Balusu. A place quite far from my hotel in Lembang Tallu Lolo. After I arrived at the home of the deceased’s family, the event began with prayers involving all family members, neighbors, and visitors. The Meaa is typically led by several influential or senior people.
During the procession, most people sat in their designated places on the terrace under the rice barn (Lumbung padi) or in semi-open bamboo buildings like huts, ‘Lantang’ in the local tongue. Lantang was specifically constructed for the Rambu Solo’ event. Each bamboo building is numbered to indicate the family or relatives occupying it. Usually, one family or group occupies a single building.
Everybody who attended this procession wore black clothes as a symbol of mourning, and some of the people paired the clothes with Paruki and Sarita, which is a type of woven fabric that was worn for sacred or occasional events.

Men are usually responsible for boiling the Tedong and serving it in many bowls that are then distributed to family members. (Credits: Jajang Ramadhan R. Warsito)
After the prayers, comes testimonials or messages from the family and relatives about the deceased during her life. Most of them are conveyed through speeches in the traditional Torajan language. Right after the second agenda, people started preparing Tedong or buffalo to be distributed to all the people who participated in the ceremony. Each family or group was given 1–2 bowls of boiled Tedong that was previously cooked in a big container. It is served by adult men and carried by each family representative.

I participated in trying boiled Tedong with very minimal seasoning. It was served alongside steamed rice, a variety of steamed vegetables, and salted fish with sambal as a condiment. (Credits: Jajang Ramadhan R. Warsito)
Chapter 2: Dance & Family Portrait
Everyone looked full, and there were some at the corner, ensuring they were all ready. They then began walking and standing horizontally in front of the coffin. I believe they were the people who had connections to the deceased. Later, I knew that they were performing a mourning dance, locally known as ‘Tari Ma’ Badong’. This is a traditional dance of the Toraja tribe and usually entertains the bereaved family. The dance is typically performed in an open field or a large courtyard in the middle of Lantang (bamboo huts).

Girls were performing Tari Ma’ Badong in front of the coffin. (Credits: Jajang Ramadhan R. Warsito)
After the dance, some adult men and teenagers began binding the coffin with a long rope to a few bamboos. These bamboo would later be used as supports when the coffin was lifted and paraded by people. One of the precious moments that I witnessed was when the coffin was being tied to the bamboo, as that was a time for family and relatives to mourn. They cried and spoke words of farewell to the deceased. It was a moment of deep sadness for everyone who felt the loss of the deceased before the people carried the coffin away.
Once the mournings ended, each family member of the deceased—her husband, daughters, sons, older sisters, brothers, grandson, and great-grandson—was given the opportunity to have a family photo session. It was divided into several groups, with her husband always remaining seated in the middle until all the main family members had taken pictures. I had never seen such a thoughtful and sweet moment like that before. Throughout the entire procession, I also noticed a dedicated photographer and videographer capturing every single moment.
Chapter 3: The Parade
When the body in the coffin began to be lifted, a family member of the deceased said: “Within, there would be a ‘bangku angkat, bangku sorong’, meaning a ‘lift and push’”. This metaphorically represents the love of children and family for their mother who cared for and raised them when they were little. I was immediately touched and happy to hear the meaning behind this part of the procession.

Before Ma’ Palau began, some people were ready to lift the coffin. (Credits: Jajang Ramadhan R. Warsito)
The last thing to do before the coffin was put inside the ‘Patane’ (the final resting place) is the Ma’ Palau, a unique tradition of parading the coffin while shaking it on the way to the Patane. The gong is sounded as a signal to begin the Ma’ Palau. Hundreds of people joined the parade and those carrying the coffin kept lifting and shaking it, walking lively and making a distinctive sound that I can’t explain in words. This is a gesture of affection for the deceased.
Here, I followed behind the long line of people.
After the coffin arrived in front of the entrance of the Patane, the family began throwing money at the people who participated. The atmosphere was filled with joy, and the coffin was ready to enter the last resting place. Later, I saw the door of Patane locked, and people placed banners and portraits of the deceased to mark the completion of Meaa.
The Values of Rambu Solo
One fact I never knew before I met Torajan directly was that a Rambu Solo’ would not proceed if all family members (in the family tree) could not attend. Preparing for a Rambu Solo’ can take up to three years and gathering relatives from diverse locations is a significant undertaking. Some family members come from various regions. After they come to the deceased’s home, each member must follow every single procession within seven days, as it is a mandatory custom. Every cost associated with this procession requires financial support from each family member and relative, essentially everyone in the family tree who has a connection to the deceased, regardless of the amount.
At its core, Rambu Solo’ is a testament to the profound solidarity and interconnectedness of the Torajan family. This elaborate funeral procession is a deep expression of love for the departed and a time for collective mourning. It becomes a moment to share with everyone, while also serves as a reflection of the family’s social standing within the community.